Over You
by Rhapsody In The Night
Summary: A song-fic based on Sheryl Crow's Over You. I think it's pretty cool ^_^


Song "Over You" by Sheryl Crow  
  
I feel like cherry wine  
  
Like Valentines  
  
Like a spring is coming  
  
And everything is all right  
  
Clarice Starling flipped through her mail, mostly bills, but one envelope stood out. She couldn't immediately put her finger in it. Then she turned it over. She dropped it as if it burned her, that handwriting, his handwriting. She carefully opened it and slid out a letter.  
  
"Hello Clarice, " it began.  
  
I've got a love that's new  
  
  
  
  
  
I hear you're happy too  
  
That's the way it should be  
  
She read about his new life now. He was currently in Marseille, France, enjoying himself, alone. She read through his descriptions and well wishes. Why won't he just leave me alone," she thought.  
  
But lately I feel like crying  
  
I wanna get over you  
  
But you're everywhere  
  
And I just can't get away  
  
Clarice finished the letter and stared for several seconds at his signature. She then set it on the kitchen table. She grabbed a light jacket and stepped out into the cool autumn air. Maybe she'd fine release out of doors instead of being cooped up in her house. She walked quickly down the sidewalk until she came to a newspaper stand and decided to get a paper.  
  
I gotta get over you  
  
  
  
  
  
Cause it's just not fair  
  
  
  
  
  
That I still see your face  
  
Clarice flipped open the front page. There he was again. She sighed out of frustration and sadness. She threw the paper into the nearest trashcan. She stopped out side and electronics store. All the TV's on display were turned to the six 'o' clock news.  
  
I heard your name today  
  
  
  
  
  
I walked away  
  
  
  
  
  
Cause everyone's still talking  
  
  
  
  
  
I don't need that in my life  
  
  
  
  
  
Got better things to do  
  
  
  
  
  
Then worry about you  
  
  
  
  
  
I'm gonna keep on walking  
  
"Dr. Lector, more commonly known as Hannibal the Cannibal." Clarice turned and angrily walked away. She couldn't stand to hear anymore. He was everywhere. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She rounded the corner to the local park and began jogging, running away from him. She wouldn't find him here.  
  
But sometimes I don't know why  
  
  
  
  
  
I wanna get over you  
  
  
  
  
  
But you're everywhere  
  
And I just can't get away  
  
Pictures of Hannibal Lector flashed in her mind. It was not use, running wouldn't help. She slowed to a walk and came upon a fruit vendor, selling oranges. And orange sounded good to her. She stopped to buy one.  
  
I gotta get over you  
  
  
  
  
  
Cause it's just not fair  
  
  
  
  
  
That I still see your face  
  
Clarice looked up to pay the vendor and jumped. For an instant, he had looked just like him. "You're losing it, Clarice, " she told herself as she walked away. She walked back to her house and found a package sitting on the front steps. She carried it into the kitchen and set it on the table. She opened it to reveal a bouquet of red roses.  
  
Well we had a good time  
  
  
  
  
  
But time goes on  
  
  
  
  
  
You didn't really want me till I was gone  
  
  
  
  
  
I wanna get over you  
  
  
  
  
  
Before you get over me  
  
Over me  
  
There was a small card attached to the bouquet. "Count them, Clarice," it read, in his handwriting. Why the hell was he doing this now? She pounded an angry fist on the table. Why now, when he was halfway around the world? Angry tears slid down her cheeks as she counted the roses. She found there were only eleven, one short of the traditional dozen. What the hell was that supposed to mean? She slid into a chair, angry, crying and defeated.  
  
I wanna get over you  
  
But you're everywhere  
  
And I just can't get away  
  
I gotta get over you  
  
Cause it's not fair  
  
I just need to lie down, she thought and headed towards the bedroom. She flicked on the light and looked across the room. There, sitting on the edge of the bed, was Hannibal Lector, holding a single, white rose.  
  
"Hello Clarice," he said.  
  
That I still see your face 


End file.
